2.26.2009

I DARE YOU!

The clock ticks,ticks and tocks.
Moving smoothly and stealth-like, time is approaching you.
Kiss,kiss your time is up. And if you feel the need go ahead,your time is done here.
Make it quick and desserted-show no fear.

The end is dry and you feel the pain,so GO AHEAD,I DARE YOU! End this game........

Time is no longer with you. It sides with your enemy. It's stopping,stopping no more seconds,no more bleeding.
But now you face more suffering and eyes that cry agony.

Redemption was there-YES-you had that option,but you chose to ignore it.
Now your close by and on the egde.
Your mind is conflicted and you think of revenge.
The knife is grasped tightly,breaking the palm of your hand.
Your lips smooth and trembling,yet you still don't understand.

I DARE YOU! I Dare you to move that knife and plunge it deep somewhere within your body! I DARE YOU!
DO IT FORE ME! FOR ME!
FOR ME,FOR ME!

But she can't ,she can't allow herself to love anything but herself!
So do you wanna know what she does?

She hands me the knife-my heart- and I put within me again. Because, she refused to accept the fact that someone was in with her.....
Shame..........
So,I DARE YOU!
I dare you to come back to me with regret and that pittyfull smile you'd run across your face that half says I'm sorry.
I DARE YOU!
I DARE YOU!
The end is dry and you feel the pain ,so GO AHEAD,I DARE YOU!
End this game................

2.19.2009

welcome!

wassup poet! welcome to the brand-new blog for the germantown poetry festival's young blood poetry workshops! this blog will allow you to connect with other poets from the workshops in between our monthly gatherings. using it, you can share your work with your peers and get their valuable feedback. feel free to post a poem that you are working on or post a comment on someone else's poem. occasionally, we will post writing exercises or quotations to inspire your writing. feel free to do the same. as you enter into the conversation, just remember to keep it real & keep it positive.

so who's posting the first poem?

peace & poetry,
yolanda p, fest director